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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917932">Spaghetti or Bagel?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starffledust/pseuds/Starffledust'>Starffledust</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(is Mabel Juice cooking?), Bad Cooking, Canon Era, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic Fluff, Except I'm fairly sure I wrote it seriously at the time, Fluff and Crack, Ford Pines is Trying, Gen, I think this qualifies as crack, Mabel Juice, One Shot, Pines Family, Pines Family Bonding, They're a Family, This Is STUPID, sorta - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:47:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starffledust/pseuds/Starffledust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Where there was previously a dining table, now sat a grand niece and the gopher handyman on the floor, cross-legged in front of a pot of what could be mistaken for a blood-galaxy in all its glittery red glory.</p><p>And it was that moment that Dipper decided to come downstairs.</p><p>“What are you two doing?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Spaghetti or Bagel?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I found this on my Drive dating back to February 10, 2019. I have no idea what this even is, but it looked good enough to post here.</p><p>Set sometime between when Ford returns and the beginning of the Weirdmaggedon storyline. He's accepted and everything but still trying to find his place back with his brother and the rest of the people living in his house.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stanford had long since resigned himself to weirdness. From his own extra fingers to the evil triangle that had plagued his life both waking and asleep, he really had no choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But sometimes, oh sometimes, the mundane reality was still far weirder than whatever he could imagine himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he had woken that morning, he just wanted to record some new findings on zombies, but those plans were quickly disrupted when he stepped down the hall to find the wooden floor below the stairs of the Mystery Shack (he still needed to talk to Stanley about the naming choice) stained in plastic glitter and… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spaghetti sauce? He hoped that was spaghetti sauce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully (but mostly unfortunately), walking into the kitchen revealed that it was, indeed, spaghetti sauce. Along with a hundred other unnamed contents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where there was previously a dining table, now sat a grand niece and the gopher handyman on the floor, cross-legged in front of a pot of what could be mistaken for a blood-galaxy in all its glittery red glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was that moment that Dipper decided to come downstairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you two doing?” was all he could say on the matter, once he stopped in the kitchen doorway. His clothes were wrinkled and hair frizzy as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford did not look over at him, gazing intently at the pot, trying to reason through its ingredients.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was red, and there was obviously a fair amount of glitter and spaghetti sauce. But it had a smoother quality, like ketchup. Except ketchup has a strong flavor and smell. He would know if they had used it, because, obviously, he would be able to tell if it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ketchup </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all things—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mabel looked up at the two of them. One pink sweater clad arm immediately waved her brother off. “Making breakfast, what does it look like?” she said with a satisfied smile. Her hair was covered in pink glitter with small, plastic dinosaur toys stuck throughout the morning tangles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to that, Dipper sighed. “Mabel, I know that you and Soos are not this dense.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mabel waved him off again without saying anything else, her tongue out as she looked deeper into the red galaxy in a pot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford puzzled over its smell as it wafted over to him and Dipper. It couldn't be mayonnaise, could it? It did have that egg-smell. And a bit of vinegar…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did Stanley ever check the dates on his food items? He must have, some time recently. They went to the store not even two days ago!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, Stanley was many things, but he wouldn't give the kids spoiled food. That was a new low not even conmen could pull—especially his brother with a soft spot for delinquents. No, it couldn't be mayonnaise. But then what other ingredient was there?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soos, who had not uttered a single word so far, continued to stir the weird concoction in the pot. A smile was plastered completely to his face, brightening when Mabel smeared a bit of the substance on his face. He turned to the stunned duo in the doorway. “Don’t worry, dudes,” he now said. “I’m acting adult supervision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a followup to this already ridiculous statement, the handyman dumped more glitter into the mixture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mabel!” Dipper complained loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dipper!” she replied just as obnoxiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is that?” Ford cut in, still staring at the pot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mabel glanced back at the pot. “Breakfast?” she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford shook his head and took a tentative step forward. The substance, underneath the coating of pink glitter, sparkled in the light—in places, the liquid erupted in small, clear, bluish bubbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue? But what could be blue? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you make it?” he asked. “I’ve never seen a mixture like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Mabel smiled, “you know. The usual. Glitter, Pitt Cola, glitter, plastic dinosaurs, glitter, sugar. Did I mention glitter? It’s most of the normal stuff you find in Mabel Juice. But Soos also contributed this time! We call it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soos and Mabel’s Breakfast Juice, </span>
  </em>
  <span>S.M.B.J. for short.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dipper, who finally stopped looking like a half-zombie in the doorway (really, they didn't need any more of those), also approached in socked feet. He leaned over to peer at the pot, then turned away with a hand over his nose and mouth. “It smells awful!” he said, muffled by his hand. “Soo, what did you add?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just about anything I could find,” said Soos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which was?” Ford prompted, leaning closer to the man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know, dude. Let me think… I looked in the fridge first, so eggs” —that explained the egg smell— “spaghetti sauce” —the color— “some salt and vinegar chips” —sorta explained the vinegar smell— “and this weird water I found on the counter.” He held up a half empty glass of water-like liquid, but it held a light blue tint and didn't slosh against the sides like a normal glass of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford blanched. That explained the light blue flecks and the strangely viscous liquid. “That's not a drink,” he said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Then what else could it—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soos didn't finish as Stanley walked into the room in his undershirt and shorts, eyes and back drooped to the ground. “Ey, anyone seen my—ah, there it is.” He took the glass from Soos’ hands. “Huh. I swear I had more in here earlier.” He walked away, cup in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Stan left the room, everyone turned back to Ford.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” asked Dipper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hydrogen peroxide,” said Ford, a haunted look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mabel tightened a hand around a handle of the pot, leaning over with a concerned eye. “What’s that?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's a—uh.” Ford glanced at her and then the pot. “It's a chemical. Close to H2O. H2O2, actually.” Yes, science he knew science. He could explain science. “You shouldn’t ingest it, it’s known to cause respiratory and gut issues.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“English!” cried Mabel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford gulped. “In its liquid form it's usually used as a—a cleaning solution.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kitchen stilled, the birds outside silent and three other occupants pondering on just what this could mean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cleaning solution…” Dipper mused aloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford stared down at the S.M.B.J.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For museum pieces?” offered Soos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Ford said absently. He tore his eyes away from the pot, fighting a gag reflex which simmered under his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sofas?” Mabel tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” Ford sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...jewellery?” said Dipper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused this time. “Sometimes, but no. That requires sodium bicarbonate as well, from what I've heard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what is it for?” asked Mabel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford swallowed, already regretting what he would say. He hoped the calamity that was sure to follow was not enough to alert Stanley to this dilemma. Even an interdimensional portal would not save any of them from his teasing at that point. “It’s mostly used as a bleach,” he said quickly, his face growing red. “For—well, for dentures mostly...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence for a moment, and everyone glanced down at the S.M.B.J.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mabel made a face in between vomiting and screaming before she scrambled up to her feet, the pot’s handles held in her hands. “Imma dump it!” she yelled, running out of the kitchen and out the back door to the porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mabel, not on the grass!” Dipper called as he ran after her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford glanced to Soos, who stood up from the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes met for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” said Ford, over the sounds of siblings fighting outside, “the eggs were a good choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soos did a fist pump in the air.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I honestly don't know what this is, I just found it in a random folder.</p><p>From what I can remember, denture cleaning tablets actually don't have hydrogen peroxide in them. But Stan has always been one for overdoing the simplest things. He probably found some of the stuff in Ford's basement and decided it was cheaper. And it actually can be used as a bleach when paired with sodium bicarbonate (baking soda). I think that's what the store usually sells it as.</p><p>Kids, seriously, don't ingest hydrogen peroxide. You'll get intestinal issues.</p><p>(Apparently S.M.B.J. is an actual acronym. I think it's a Java script thing, but I may be wrong. I don't know, to me it'll always be Soos and Mabel's Breakfast Juice.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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